


A Nightmare and A Promise

by ash_mcj



Series: The Gallagher-Milkovich Family [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Comfort, Fluff, Gallaghers Find out, Gallavich, M/M, Mickey comes out, Nightmare, Protective Mickey Milkovich
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:24:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ash_mcj/pseuds/ash_mcj
Summary: Ian has a nightmare about Terry, and Mickey knows the only way to wake him up will get him caught by the Gallaghers. Is Mickey willing to give up his secret to a few people, in return for saving Ian from Nightmare Terry? Apparently, he is.It's sweet, just read it :)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was something I just thought of and I just had to write it out really fast!
> 
> Set slightly before Mickey comes out in the bar.
> 
> Also, Fiona, Lip, Kev, and V's reactions are in the second chapter of this two-shot, if you want to see that!

It was just after 11pm when Mickey Milkovich entered the Gallagher house. He vaguely noticed Lip, Fiona, Kev, and V sitting at the kitchen table, but didn’t bother acknowledging them. It’s not like he had any interest in joining in on whatever the fuck they were talking about, anyway, so he rather just slip in and slip out without drawing much attention to himself.

He opened the cabinet, grabbed the container he knew was the Squirrel Fund, and set it on the counter. He took off the lid and reached into his back pocket to take out the bills he had stashed there, but Fiona was beside him in a flash, grabbing the container and glaring at him.

“What do you think you’re doing, Milkovich? We let you stay here and you try to steal our money?” Fiona accused.

“Look, I don’t have any reason to steal your fuckin’ money. All I got to do is make a few drug deals and I’d have more than you and your herd of children collect in a week.” Mickey shook his head. “Besides, I’m a Milkovich. I ain’t the smartest in terms of academics, but I fuckin’ know how to steal. If I was robbing you, I wouldn’t do it in plain sight, while you’re sitting five feet away.”

“Then what _were_ you doing?” Fiona asked, setting the container back on the counter.

“I’ve been staying here for almost two weeks and I ain’t big on freeloading on people who can barely afford to put fuckin’ food in their stomachs. I don’t have a ton of money, but I also have seven people bringing in cash at my place for rent and shit, so I have some to spare. I was putting money _into_ your fuckin’ Chipmunk Fund, not taking it out.”

Fiona saw Mickey drop in a handful of bills and knew she screwed up, but she wasn’t about to admit that. “I don’t suppose you got the money legally?”

“Probably not, but it’s 400 bucks and your piggy bank is lookin’ a little low, so I suggest you just take the cash, unless you don’t like water and electricity.”

“We don’t need your help.” Fiona argued.

“Like I said, I don’t like freeloading.” Mickey shrugged, putting the lid on the container and setting it back on the shelf.

“Why are you staying here, anyway?” Lip asked from the table. “Don’t you have a house right down the street that you could fuck off to?”

“I needed a break from my family, before I ended of killing one of ‘em.” Mickey told him, grabbing a beer from the fridge. “Ian offered to let me crash here for awhile, so I took him up on it.”

“You don’t have to sleep on his floor, you know. You can sleep on the couch. Probably more comfortable.” Fiona said, sitting back down at the table. Mickey followed her over.

“Eh, no thanks. I’m pretty sure at least one of the members of your herd was conceived on that couch--and who knows how many people have fucked on it over the years? Pretty sure the floor is cleaner than that thing.”

Fiona opened her mouth to argue, but quickly closed it when she realized that he was probably right. She knew for a fact that she had fucked at least five guys on that couch in her lifetime, and she assumed Lip had done the same, judging by the way he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“Speaking of clean...Milkovich, you smell pretty good.” V noticed, leaning over to smell him. “Did you finally discover how a shower works?”

“And cologne.” Fiona added.

“Fuck off.” Mickey sneered.

“Maybe he finally found someone he wants to smell good for.” Lip teased, giving him a knowing look. Everyone laughed, brushing it off, but Mickey knew then that Lip knew about him and Ian.

Fuck that stupid Firecrotch, unable to keep one fuckin’ secret.

“Milkoviches don’t do relationships, and there’s no way in fuck that I would change myself to get laid by some skank, so you can just go fuck yourself with that idea.” Mickey said.

“Y’know...I didn’t even know you and Ian were friends.” Kev realized.

“We talk.” Mickey shrugged.

“So he just let the neighborhood thug into his house with his family, because you’re an acquaintance?” V asked.

“So we’re friends--whatever.” Mickey admitted.

“I’ve never even seen you two talk before.” Kev countered.

“We’ve been friends or whatever the fuck for a couple years. Him and my sister are practically glued at the fuckin’ hip.” Mickey rolled his eyes. “Where is that ginger, anyway?”

“He fell asleep reading about an hour ago.” Fiona told him. He nodded and took an empty seat at the table.

The five of them talked for awhile about work and whatnot. Well, Mickey mostly just watched and drank, but the rest of them all talked. Debbie and Carl were at their friends’ houses, and Liam and Ian were asleep, so it was just the adults, for once.

It was almost midnight, when a scream came from upstairs, and the hairs on Mickey’s neck stood up.

“Was that Ian?” Lip asked, but Mickey was already flying up the stairs, because he _knew_ that was Ian.

Once the thug saw that the distress was caused by a nightmare, instead of some intruder, he let out the breath he was holding and unclenched his fists. If it _was_ an intruder, he was ready to kill the son of a bitch. He backed into the corner of the room to make space for the other four people, who came rushing in behind him.

Ian’s body was thrashing around violently, but his arms were secured to his sides, as if someone or something was holding them there. He was grunting and obviously struggling against whatever was restraining him.

“Ian,” Fiona said, shaking his arm.

“No, no, no--STOP IT!” Ian yelled.

“Ian, man, wake up.” Lip called, squatting down next to him.

“Stop, stop, please,” Ian whimpered, and then yelled, “MICKEY!”

All eyes turned to the thug in the corner of the room and he felt sick to his stomach. He watched as Ian was writhing and trying to fight off whatever was making him so distressed, and the thought that it was Mickey, made him extremely upset. Was he attacking him? Was he hurting him? Mickey walked a little closer to his (secret) boyfriend and saw the tears streaming down his face. Mickey thought that he might actually throw up. Whatever he was doing to Ian was making him _cry_. What the fuck was he doing to him in this dream?!

“No!” Ian screamed, “Terry, stop!”

That’s when the feeling in Mickey’s stomach got a thousand times worse and red-hot anger burned in his chest as he went from worried, to horrified and pissed the fuck off in three seconds flat.

“Why is he dreaming about your dad?” Kev asked, but Mickey ignored him and went to stand by Ian.

Mickey knew he had to wake Ian up, because whatever was happening to him right then, was being done by fucking Terry Milkovich, and that was absolutely not okay. Even while locked up in jail, Ian was _still_ not safe from that fuckhead. Terry could literally be doing anything to Ian--there was no shortage of horrors imaginable that Terry would do, especially to a "fag". Whatever was happening, Mickey wanted it fucking stopped _right now_.

A small part of him reminded himself that there were five other people in the room that would find out just how close he and Ian were, if he did anything that his angry, protective brain was telling him to do, but that wasn’t really enough to stop him from doing it. _Ian needed to be saved from Terry._

“Ian,” Mickey said, softly. nudging his shoulder. A thick layer of sweat covered Ian’s entire shirtless torso, and he was visibly shaking.

“Yeah, we’ve already tried that, smartass. He’s not waking up.” Lip sighed. “Maybe we’ve just got to let him finish out the dream.”

“With fuckin’ Terry?” Mickey scoffed. _Not an option._ He wasn’t leaving Ian to Terry’s abuse any longer. He could feel everyone staring at him, wondering what he was going to do, but he didn’t really care as much as he should have. All that mattered was that Terry was hurting Ian and Mickey could absolutely not allow that to continue.

“No, no, no, no, please.” Ian cried, ceasing his thrashes and starting to just totally break down. His body shook violently with sobs, but he wasn’t fighting anymore, and that hurt Mickey quite a bit. _Terry broke his boyfriend._

Mickey completely forgot about everyone else in the room as he threw his leg over Ian and straddled his waist, before leaning down to take the younger boy’s face in his hands. He touched their foreheads together and said, “Ian, Baby, wake up.” He knew that calling him that super fairy pet name always seemed to calm him down and make him feel safe, and he was sort of grasping at straws at the moment, trying to figure out how to wake him up. “Baby, open your eyes. Show me your eyes.” He stroked his cheek soothingly with his thumb, never separating their faces.

He felt Ian grab onto his shirt and saw him open his red-rimmed eyes.

“Hey.” Mickey breathed, relieved that he woke him up.

Ian frantically ran his hands over every inch of Mickey’s torso, whispering, “You’re okay. Oh, my God, you’re okay.”

“Yeah, Firecrotch, I’m good.” Mickey assured him, sitting up and removing his hands from Ian’s face. “Are _you_?”

“Terry--he was just... _pounding_ on you. And-And I was tied to some chair or something and I couldn’t get to you...I-I couldn’t help you. I had to just _watch_ as he beat the shit out you. And--oh God--you stopped moving and I-I knew you were...I knew you were dead! And I just couldn’t--” Ian’s sobs had become too violent for him to speak, and Mickey rubbed his chest soothingly.

“It was just a dream, man. I’m fine. You’re fine. Terry’s good-for-nothing ass is still in jail. Everything is okay.” Mickey said.

“But it isn’t okay, because it felt...it felt _so much_ like last year, and I-I just…” Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s neck and pulled him down on top of him. He buried his face in Mickey’s neck and started taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm down. Mickey relaxed into the death-grip, knowing Ian wasn’t going to let go of him anytime soon. He laid down on the larger boy’s chest and allowed him to wrap his legs around Mickey’s, pulling every inch of him tighter against his body.

“You’re octopus-ing me, Gallagher.” Mickey joked, leaving soft kisses on Ian’s neck, as Ian used his scent to regulate his breathing and his heart rate.

“I thought I’d lost you.” Ian whispered. “You can’t ever do that to me again, Mickey.”

“Die?” Mickey asked. “I think that’s a little out of my--”

“Promise me.” Ian cut him off. “Promise me that you won’t ever leave me. You aren’t allowed to die before me--I get to die first. When we’re old and balding and can’t get it up without fuckin’ Viagra anymore. _That’s_ when you can die, but only after me, okay? Do it. Promise me.”

They both heard the silent _‘I love you’_ in there. It was unmistakable. Mickey was pretty sure he had just heard Ian admitting to wanting--demanding, really--to spend the rest of his life with him, which should have freaked him out, but it didn’t. The part that _did_ freak him out a little, was that he wanted that, too. _A lifetime with Ian._ When Mickey thought about his future, he wanted Ian to be there to call out his shit and make him use his words sometimes and push him out of his comfort zone just enough to get his adrenaline flowing and make him loosen up a little. Making him man up and kiss him. Making him try fucking face-to-face. Giving him the courage he needed to feel _free_.  Maybe a lifetime together wasn’t in their cards, and maybe that freeing feeling would change or go away someday, but right then in that moment, Mickey knew without doubt that he loved Ian Gallagher, too. He wasn’t ready to say it out loud, yet, and he knew Ian wasn’t, either. Those three words were too scary, too real, too vulnerable.

So, instead, he said, “I promise,” and they both knew that it meant _‘I love you, too’._

Ian pulled him closer--if that was even possible--and massaged his fingers into the back of Mickey’s hair, opening and closing his fist while lightly running his nails over his scalp. The two held onto each other as if their lives depended on it, and who knows? Maybe they really did.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fiona, Kev, V, and Lip react to the affectionate behavior of the neighborhood thug towards Ian, and the knowledge that Mickey Milkovich is gay. Not everyone is as accepting as Ian hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the reaction chapter that some of you wanted! Sorry I took so long to write this; I was really busy this past week. I hope you like it!

After a few minutes of letting the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne numb the panic in his chest, Ian pulled his face slightly away from Mickey’s neck. That’s when he noticed the rather full room of people, staring with their eyes wide and mouths agape. Even Lip, who had known about he and Mickey for over a year, looked shocked.

At first, Ian wasn’t sure if Mickey knew that people were watching--he probably wouldn’t have been leaving comforting butterfly kisses on Ian’s neck and stroking his hair, if he had--and he was a little afraid that Mickey would freak out and leave. The thought of Mickey leaving him brought the anxiety crawling back into his body, and he clutched onto him tighter.

“It’s okay, Firecrotch.” Mickey said, knowing Ian had noticed the others in the room by the way his body went rigid. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Sometimes it amazed Ian how in sync he and Mickey were. They very rarely discussed how they felt, but they always seemed to know. There was some sort of connection between the two of them that allowed them to just _know_ what the other was thinking. Maybe it was because over the time they’d been together, they had just picked up on each other's mannerisms, or maybe they were both just good at reading people, but when Ian was alone at night, he liked to secretly think that it was because they had some connection that was...he didn’t want to say _Soul Mates_ , but...yeah, pretty much. Not that he’d ever admit to thinking that out loud, though. Mickey would freak out.

There was no way that they could try to explain the way their bodies were tangled together, so Mickey had basically come out to Fiona, Lip, V, Kev, and Liam (if you could even count him), just to wake Ian from a nightmare. That made Ian feel warm and the way he felt a lot when he and Mickey were alone: loved. Neither of them had to say it. They probably would eventually, but it wasn’t necessary right now. Mickey knew Ian loved him. Ian knew Mickey loved him. That was enough, for now.

“So,” V said. “Wow.”

“Did everyone else just see that whole thing, too?” Kev asked, looking to the others for confirmation.

“Ian was having a nightmare about Terry, Mickey straddled him and called him Baby _twice,_ \--which was cute, by the way, Mickey--Ian all but declared his love for Mickey and asked him to marry him, and then they had a cuddle party for a solid five minutes. If that’s what you meant by ‘whole thing’, then yeah, that really happened.” Lip told him.

Ian let go of his not-so-secret-anymore boyfriend and they both sat up. Ian was still afraid he was going to bolt, so he was grateful that Mickey was close enough to where his leg was touching his. The contact gave him a peace of mind.

“Shut the fuck up. I said what I had to say to wake him up. I didn’t see your genius idea of calling his name doing shit, so I tried something else.” Mickey grumbled, a light blush spreading across his cheeks. Ian refrained from kissing the pink skin. “And there were no fucking proposals.”

“Hold on, I’m confused,” Kev cut in. “Are you guys, like, _together_?”

“Yeah.” Mickey shrugged, and a tingling sensation erupted in Ian’s stomach as a smile graced his face. _Together_ . Something about the word being verbalized and people _knowing_ that Mickey belonged to him, made him feel great.

“Wow.” Kev laughed. “I mean, I already figured Ian was gay...he never brought home any girls and he’s sorta _pretty_ , you know? But Mickey...I never would’ve guessed.”

Ian thought Mickey was pretty, too. He thought Mickey was beautiful.

“Yeah, well…” Mickey smirked, looking over at Ian. “I guess he _is_ kinda pretty, huh?”

“Shut up.” Ian rolled his eyes. He prayed to God that Mickey didn’t see his blush.

The prayer was left unanswered and Mickey most definitely did see that blush. That stupidly cute blush that burned under the younger boy’s pale, freckled skin in a way that made Mickey smile every time. He loved it when he blushed like that.

He thought Ian was beautiful.

“Those comments you made at the Alibi about pale skin, freckles, and carrot tops make a lot more sense now.” Kev pieced together.

“How long have you guys been... _together_?” Fiona asked, staring distastefully at Mickey.

“It’s complicated,” Ian replied, thinking back. “It was on and off and kinda unofficial for a lot of it, but...about two years?”

“ _Two years?_ ” Fiona exclaimed. “You’ve been seeing someone for two years and you didn’t think to let me know?”

“It’s not like we were super open about it, Fi.” Ian defended.

“I wouldn’t let him tell anyone.” Mickey said, taking the blame. He didn’t want Fiona to skin him alive, like her eyes were suggesting she might. “I can’t risk it goin’ around town that Terry Milkovich’s son is a fag.”

“Yeah, that would be really bad.” Kev agreed. “We won’t tell anyone.”

“Ian, can I talk to you in the hall?” Fiona asked, turning and walking out before Ian answered. Ian and Mickey shared a look, before Ian got up and followed her.

“Why--” Ian started, but she interrupted him.

“I don’t want you dating Mickey.” She said brusquely. “I think he’s a bad kid--a drug dealer, no less--who’s into a lot of bad shit that I don’t want you mixed up in.”

Ian knew she would be against him dating the neighborhood thug, and he planned to handle it calmly and explain to her why Mickey was a good boyfriend. That was the plan. Ian’s need to defend him got in the way of that plan.

“Because you know so fucking much about relationships and always pick the best guys out there.” he scoffed. “At least mine didn’t lie about his name or leave cocaine out for Liam to get into.”

“I’m not claiming to have the best taste in men, but I have a bad boy thing, too, and look where that’s gotten me. You should be learning from my mistakes, not copying them. It’s my job as your older sister and your guardian to look out for you--”

“I don’t need you to do that. I know what I’m doing.”

“That boy in there is going to set a match to your life. Sure, it’s hot and beautiful and exciting at first, but it gets out of control pretty fast and ruins everything it touches. He’s going to ruin you.”

“Our flames have never been pretty and peaceful, Fiona. They are chaotic and unpredictable and trying to survive in a fucking rain storm, with everyone trying to blow them out. Even if it gets out of control and burns my whole world to the ground, it’ll be worth it. Nothing makes me feel as alive as Mickey does.”

“I’ve known you for seventeen years, Ian. I know you can’t possibly be happy in a relationship that is kept a secret. You’re a hopeless romantic, who wants to hold hands and kiss and I seriously doubt that’s Mickey. He will never be able to be public with you--you know that, right? If his dad finds out, you’re both dead. You deserve more than Mickey Milkovich.”

“You know fuck all about Mickey.” Ian shook his head. “You know the guy he has to pretend to be. How else would he survive being a closeted gay Milkovich? I don’t expect you to believe me, but he’s a good guy. He’s sensitive and affectionate and he cares about me. His affection isn’t shown through flowers or chocolate--it’s in the way he looks at me, and the way his fingers linger on mine just a second too long whenever he passes me something, and how he pulls my arm over his body when we are laying together. That boy in there is so much more than some neighborhood delinquent, and when we’re alone, he treats me like I’m his whole damn world. I don’t need hand-holding and kisses in public--he gives me more than enough of those in private. Trust me, whenever I’m with him, I’m the happiest I’ve ever been.”

“This is a bad idea.” Fiona warned.

“I don’t need your support or acceptance. I didn’t ask for it. Mickey and I have gone through Hell and back together, and my older sister’s displeasure at our relationship doesn’t mean shit. Maybe we’ll break up at some point, but right now, we are good for each other. What we have has fuck all to do with you, so you might as well get used to it, because Mickey isn’t going anywhere.”

“Ian--”

Ian didn’t wait to hear what she had to say. He turned and went back into the room, taking his seat next to Mickey on the bed.

“C’mon, Mickey, just tell us: who’s the bottom?” Kev pleaded. By the overly annoyed face Mickey was making, Ian guessed they had been grilling him about it for awhile.

“Fuck off.” Mickey sneered.

“I’d say Ian is the bottom.” Lip reasoned. “Mickey’s too prideful and feisty to be down for a dick up the ass.”

“Mm, I’m not so sure. Mickey is a lot smaller than Ian, so I feel like that would be weird. Can you imagine Mickey trying to hold Ian up against a wall and ram into him?” V said, evaluating the two boys on the bed. “If you ask me, I’d guess Mickey is a power bottom.”

“I’m no expert, but I don’t think it has much to do with height.” Lip said.

V, Kev, and Lip continued arguing about the boys’ sex life as if they weren’t in the same room, but Mickey stopped paying attention when he noticed the agitated look on Ian’s face as he glared at Fiona, who’s attention was on the active conversation. He hooked his foot over Ian’s, drawing his attention.

“You playin’ footsie with me?” Ian grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Was the conversation with your sister that bad?” Mickey asked.

“It doesn’t matter. She’ll come around.” Ian shrugged. “What I’m _really_ annoyed about is the fact that nobody except V can see me as a top.”

Mickey laughed and shook his head. He felt a slight tug on his pants leg and looked down to see Liam. He picked him up and sat him on his lap without much thought, then turned back to the redhead. He and Ian had been babysitting the youngest Gallagher a lot lately, and he had decided that the toddler was his favorite of Ian’s herd of siblings. Maybe it was because the kid was basically mute.

Fiona looked over at her brother and his boyfriend, who seemed to be in their own little world. Oddly enough, Liam seemed to be part of that world at the moment. Liam pulled Mickey’s arm around him and began playing with his fingers. At first glance, Mickey seemed oblivious to him, but as Fiona looked closer, she realized that his arm was positioned as to make sure Liam didn’t fall off his lap, and he slightly bounced his knee. The content smile on Liam’s face showed the comfort he felt with Mickey, and Mickey seemed pretty fond of the little guy, too. Ian grabbed Mickey’s hand and began tracing the tattoos on his knuckles, whispering something that Fiona couldn’t quite make out. Mickey smiled, staring at the side of Ian’s face. She couldn’t tell if his smile was because of what Ian said, or if it was just unintentional, but one thing was clear: they were happy with each other.

The boy who woke Ian up from his nightmare and was holding her baby brother was definitely not the same boy Fiona thought she knew--she could admit that. Maybe Ian was right. If two of her brothers could see something good in Mickey, then maybe she could give him a chance, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and (nice) comments are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did writing it!


End file.
